Open Post

[tanker]

INBOX
text / audio / video / action
when you float like a cannonball
code credit

Comments

[underachievement]

• Subtle Ways to Let Him Know That Your Snatch Can Take a Real Pounding

let me know if I should take some of this out!!! i wanted to set some background but i can change it

[tanker]

[ The thing about John is that, well. He's learned, over the years, to be very careful. With things, and with people. There's always a layer of control, above everything else. Because when his powers first started flaring up, he'd crush glasses and metal door handles and wooden planks and cinder blocks, by just holding them. Because he broke a schoolmate's hand in five places by shaking it.

Control became the very thing he held on to for dear life, and a reason to join the military, as well. The Marines were severe and disciplined, requiring him to hold himself together every second of every day.

John learned to be careful, and controlled. Because nobody could take it, if he did lose control. That was, of course, until he met Jessica Jones.

For all intents and purposes, he shouldn't care for her, nor even like her. She despises everything he's trying to do - or at least, pretends to - like it doesn't matter, like nothing he can do would ever have an impact. It should infuriate him, and it does, sometimes, but.

But they get drunk together one night when he's in New York, and she lifts the front of a car when her keys roll under it later on, and he slams her against a wall and she laughs into his kiss. So. It's kind of a thing.

Which is why the next time he visits, it doesn't take long before they're kissing in a dark alley, one of his hands on her thigh, the other on the rough wall above her head. ]

[underachievement]

[ Jess has learned to be careful, too, several times over. Stumbling into her abilities after the accident, she pushed them only as far as she thought they could go, and when she met Kilgrave, he had her push them past the breaking point just to see where it was. It was always about the right pressure with him, given that, at any moment on the right day, if her mind could slink itself into a safe corner, she was filled to bursting under the skin with the urge to kill hm. Careful and controlled.

Now she exercises caution by staying under the radar, no matter what it takes, but her instinct to protect others over herself wins out against all her better judgments when a teenager's mutation has forced them to flee their own family. The Underground may be destined for failure but she trusts it over the foster system. On an individual basis, at least, and they're smart enough to send their least breakable representative to liaise with her when necessary. Their only mistake was assuming she was a professional.

Jess thinks they've actually been working together better since they fucked that pretense away. They kiss like it's combat, Jess having to duck her chin just rend their lips apart so she can get a word out before someone half-attentive wanders by and they end up racking up Pornhub views uncredited. ]

Your place. [ It can't be any less shabby or more fragile than hers and he probably doesn't have a deposit sunk into it. ]

[exhauriat]

do you want to put those epic finding skills of yours to good use later?
like maybe finding us a shadowy corner to make out in?

( As long as she keeps her head around his well defined chest, that is. )

[tanker]

I can definitely do that
I definitely *shouldn't* since we got another batch of refugees coming in

How would you persuade me?

[exhauriat]

what if i tell you that i'm looking for a way to celebrate?
it's been thirty days since our last plant decay incident.

[perchanced]

i saved you from getting decapitated by an eidolon demon and you didn't even call!

( the air in atlanta is thick, humidity and heat more oppressive than even an autumn fall in the city. it leaves isabelle's hair feeling slick, her own sweat mingling with the moisture from the air at the nape of her neck; she ties it up in a thick braid that rests over one shoulder, out of the way, and does her best to ignore the beads of sweat that pool along her brows.

she's here at the institute's request, to track a ravener demon with a penchant for peddling yin fen. or, rather, she's in atlanta at the institute's request, but here — more specifically, standing in a clearing just outside the city limits — for reasons all her own. a reason. a man, to be precise, one man with a sprawl of tattoos that have managed to crawl into her subconscious mind, a desire to map them out blooming over her memories.

to be fair, there hadn't been much else to remember him by. it had been dark, and the eidolon preying from above had been particularly sneaky; she hadn't been able to see the mundane's face, let alone learn his name, when she'd struck the head of her whip into the heart of the demon, its soot and ash falling over an expanse of tanned arms and legs.

he'd offered to thank her, but her mission had come first: tracking and later confronting the dealer meant finding the lower tiers, and that had meant slipping into the crowd, anonymous and unfollowed. the fact that he'd seen her at all, if not the demon itself, had surprised her; perhaps that fact alone inspired her reply. another time, she'd told him then, in another place. i'll meet you.

a place like this one, a time like now. waiting, leaned up against a tree, the toe of her boots scraping idly at an exposed root along the ground. she had to wonder how long it might take, how long his own mission might keep him occupied in return. )

[tanker]

[ Tracking was second nature to John, at this point of his life. A skill finely tuned, well honed by time and practice - from the Marines to the Underground, it was a part of him, as much as his heritage was.

Which is why he could track something he couldn't see. Which is why he ended up almost dying - something he sometimes thought impossible - and being rescued by a beautiful girl. Really, in his life? A standard occurrence, nowadays.

But then she'd disappeared. She'd used a weapon, not a Mutant power, and she'd seemed to be able to see whatever it was that attacked him.

He'd been easy, to catch a scent. He caught enough of her that he could just track her through the city if he wanted to, but he decided not to - easier to just find her when she wanted, and he had a job to do. But he picked her back up that evening, and it was just a short drive until he made it to the woods, pulling his hair up into a bun as he steps int the clearing. ]

Hi.

[perchanced]

( hi, he says, and the word drapes over her like a thick shawl, warm and comforting; her head tilts to the side, braid hanging heavy against her shoulder as she lets her gaze flick up to his. ) Hello yourself, ( murmured in a lazy drawl, casual as ever. as if she hasn't been waiting half an hour in a clearing just before twilight, feeling particularly like a brontë sisters' heroine in the process. )

I see you've managed to keep yourself alive this evening. I'm impressed.

( which is true, to an extent. she can only assume that his prior damsel in distress scenario could only be one of accidental circumstance, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time; she doesn't expect the downworlders of georgia to track down a would-be victim. but still — mundanes have such bad luck when it comes to staying alive these days. )

[viatorius]

so i know you're more of a *finding* type of guy,
but where's the best hiding spot in this place?
i accidentally walked in on marcos and lorna making out and i think she's going to kill me now.

[tanker]

Honestly? She’s used to it. She knows I can hear them pretty much all the time, but she probably wants to you with you.

I’d go to the grounds around the bank. Not so much metal for her to use, either.
Or you’re welcome to hide out in my office, I’ll keep you safe.

>> @obstinance

[tanker]

I mean, if that was what you wanted to do, I wouldn't stop you
but I wouldn't like it

Also, I feel like I should be trying to impress you right back

slides in here eons later

[obstinance]

it seems kind of pointless to make you jealous on purpose

uh you own a mirror right??
i'm plenty impressed just looking at you
trust me

( nsfw. )

[tornadoed]

[tanker]

[ It's a shitty motel. It's yet another shitty motel, it tends to always be shitty motels. It's become habit to John, the decor all merging into one, the stains on the walls not bothering him anymore, barely noticing the broken fixtures, the suspect sheets.

It doesn't keep him awake anymore. The thing that's keeping him awake right now is the steady banging he can hear three rooms over, headboard against wall in an unmistakable rhythm. John sighs, loud, staring at the ceiling as the noise permeates his mind, refuses to let him focus on anything else. And that's when the moans start. ]

Damn it.

[ He's got his phone out without thinking about it, and a text sent over in the next few seconds. At least, the answer is just as quick, and John gets out of bed, brushing summer, sticky heat sweat off of his brow. The A/C's broken.

Dorothy's room is right next door, and despite the invite, John knocks, leaning against the door frame of the motel room, tilting his head to the barely there, hot breeze blowing gently. When the door opens, he raises an eyebrow. ]

Can't sleep either, huh?

[viatorius]

( Clarice slipping out of their bedroom in the middle of the night isn't unusual. She's pregnant. If she thought living in the bathroom would make things easier she would. Because Baby #2 ( or 'the destroyer of dignity' as she likes to call them ) definitely likes kicking her in the bladder at least ten times an hour.

What is unusual is John's phone starting to vibrate and ding on the bedside table. It's text, because it uses the wi-fi and she has no fucking signal. )

john.
wake up.
if you don't wake up i'm going to kill you.
sos mayday mayday idk what do the marines use.

[tanker]

[ There are a lot of things John has come to expect of a Clarice pregnancy. From the usual - midnight runs to the store and a bladder the size of a pea - to the completely abnormal for anyone else.

A text in the middle of the night when she should be in bed, for example. John wipes the sleep out of his eyes as he sits up, looking around and focusing just for a moment, tracking senses scanning the house. Two heartbeats - his own, and Ava's.

Well. ]

what happened? where are you?
i'm not a marine anymore, just tell me what's going on

[viatorius]

( Clarice can't sleep.

Despite the actual wave of exhaustion that continually rolls through her, she can't quite seem to get her thoughts to turn off. The last few days have been a mess and she can practically feel the grief of her friends pulsing through the walls. Maybe she hadn't been one of them for very long, but the hollow-eyed look on Marcos' face had made her sick to her stomach, and John --.

Jesus, John.

With a sigh she scrubs the palm of her hand over her eyes and swings her legs off the cot. She knows why she can't sleep. And it has something to do with the man currently taking watch above their new hideout. Slipping her feet into her sneakers, she wraps her arms around herself and moves out into the dark hallways. It's mostly quiet, everyone having gone their separate ways, and so she doesn't feel self-conscious in taking the stairs to the roof. He's where she knew he'd be, slight breeze rustling through his hair as she takes in the tense shape of his shoulders. Zingo perks her head up, but immediately rests it back on his knee. Clarice isn't a threat to either of them.

She's quiet when she approaches, when she takes the space beside him, reaching out to pet the dog before pulling her knees up to her chest. Her shoulder ends up pressed against his, but she doesn't pull away. )

I'm sorry about what happened. About Lorna.

( She doesn't know what else to do. )

[tanker]

[ It's a good thing, that he's on watch right now. It's a good thing because he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, thoughts running through his mind repeatedly, even when he attempts to calm down, to quiet everything down in his head. It doesn't work, nothing works, and he just keeps on reliving that earlier scene, Lorna turning their back on them, taking Andy with her, taking Sage. Leaving Marcos behind, like they meant nothing.

The hurt, in Marcos' eyes. The way he'd broken down when the two of them had been alone for a moment, clinging to John with desperation that John could only mirror. The devastation on the Strucker's faces at losing one of theirs.

John had felt it already, when they got to safety, the weight of everything that they'd lost, what they'd sacrificed. And for what? They were on the losing side. The X-Men had put him and Lorna in charge, and he'd failed them.

He hears her before she's even on the roof, but he doesn't move. He doesn't want her to go away, anyway, if he's honest with himself. But he doesn't turn to look at her, just keeps his fingers buried in the fur at Zingo's neck and leans into Clarice's heat when she sits by his side, almost unconsciously. ]

I failed her, [ He says softly in response, looking ahead at the empty expanse of industrial estate they're hiding in the middle of. ] I feel like - like there must have been something we could have done.

[fong]

[ after the hellfire club's newest members leave where the remainder of the underground has gathered, everyone's at a loss for a while. but it's not long until they're reminded that they need to rest, pull themselves together after everything that's happened, work on finding a new location for their headquarters. in spite of everyone looking to him now that lorna's gone, marcos is in no shape to take over as leader a the moment. so clarice and john help, along with the struckers, in getting everyone settled for the night. caitlin and lauren look them over for injuries, she and reed pass out what limited rations they have and make sure places are safe before they let them settle down to sleep, and marcos and john try to figure out where they're going to head in the morning.

it's late by the time any of them get a chance to rest themselves, and clarice finds john looking out at the limited scenery their current location has to offer. she catches herself staring at his back for a moment, remembering how his suitcoat had been riddled with bullet holes only hours ago, how scared she'd been when she realized he'd been shot. evidently it didn't do much to harm him, but she still remembers the fear, even as he'd covered her to protect her from the bullets.

she shudders, but shakes it off before coming to sit beside him. he's alive. they'd...had a moment. a real moment. and his girlfriend has only recently died. it's not that she feels guilty about kissing him, not really, but she does want to know how he feels. ]

Hey.

[tanker]

[ Maybe at some point in the future, John will look back on today and realize, just how hard it was. How today was one of the hardest days of his entire life. From morning to night, it had been difficult decisions after difficult decisions, harsh words after hard words, violence begetting more violence. Lorna turning her back on them.

John looks out the greasy window of the Nashville warehouse they've holed up in, knowing tonight is going to be yet another sleepless night. He's used to them, now. He thinks about Lorna, and about how much of her recent choices must have been influenced by Sonia's death. How many of his own choices have, as well, and then haven't. Maybe, he thinks, maybe at some point in his life, he could have loved her. But they'd drifted apart, her solutions to problems sitting uneasily on his stomach every time.

And then there was Clarice, and the way the two of them fit together, and how it spurned Sonia to make more choices he couldn't agree with. She hadn't been his girlfriend, not really. It hadn't been that kind of relationship.

It still makes him feel guilty that the moment Clarice steps close to him, all he thinks about for a second is how he could just wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. ]

Hey.

[ Instead, he shifts a little, making enough space for Clarice to sit next to him if she wants to. ]

[viatorius]

so i tried, i really did.
but the bed's completely fucked. we'll need a new one.
again.

[tanker]

i'm sorry
i'll try my best to be more in control in the future

[revvedup]

continued from here

[ after the rain had stopped, they'd been helped out with the rest of the cargo by lorna and a few of the others. lorna had raised an eyebrow at their damp and slightly rumpled hair and clothing, but she hadn't commented and neither max nor john volunteered anything.

unloading and sorting had taken them a few hours, and then it was time for dinner and john had been called away to discuss something while max helped take inventory that included their new additions. by the time they were no longer busy, it was almost ten o'clock and max was standing at his door, feeling suddenly nervous.

she'd changed into drier clothing by then and taken her hair out of the braid after that had dried, leaving it loose and wavy around her face and down her back. still anxious but not wanting to keep him waiting for too long, especially since he could probably hear her through the door, she drew a single breath in and out slowly before knocking. ]

[tanker]

[ As usual, as soon as a moment was broken, over, it was a moment John had to push to the back of his thoughts to keep going, set up the next mission, talk to other stations about supplies, about trading refugees, sending vans up and down the country. Protect people, keep things moving.

He doesn't even see Max over dinner, taken in shifts, mainly because his own is a bowl of soup that Marcos pushes into his hands as he looks through stolen documents. The next time he checks, it's almost ten, and it's a good thing that he's already in his room, because he would have missed Max entirely otherwise.

And that? That would have sucked. He doesn't want her to think she comes second to the job, even if he's sure she understands the pressure of having to make some of these decisions. He wants... he wants, is the thing. He wants to give this a chance, as impossible as it may seem. ]

Come in, [ he replies to the knock, setting the folders back on the desk, the pile slightly haphazard, more precarious than he'd like, but it doesn't matter when Max steps in, taking all of his attention. ]

Hi.